


New Year's Eve Twitfics

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While sitting around waiting for the official start to the new year, I decided to take a couple twitfic prompts for the first time ever. These are the results, for whatever they're worth. Pretty much all around 250-ish words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Eve Twitfics

**For @itsjustdara  
Jensen/Misha, love-bites**

It’s a sign of just how much Misha affects him that he didn’t notice the marks earlier. He reaches up, gently touches his fingers to his neck as he stares in the mirror. Traces the pattern of the marks along the side of his neck, like some sort of connect-the-dots. Dark bruises against freckled skin, and the girls in make-up are going to chew him out for this, but somehow…

He just can’t bring himself to regret it.

Each mark is a memory, of lips and teeth and murmurs in the dark, voices whispering things they don’t dare say in the light of day, and Jensen wants that. Wants to lose himself in the recollection of each suckling kiss, every single one punctuated with a single sharp nip.

Love-bites, Misha called them. _They’re love-bites, Jen, hasn’t anyone ever given you a love-bite before?_

Jensen didn’t tell him that no, no one ever had, and he didn’t tell him that he was glad Misha was the first, and he didn’t tell him that he hoped no one but Misha ever did again.

Those aren’t the things they say to each other, in the harsh daylight or in the velvet darkness.

But here, in the in-between time when Jensen is alone and remembering…

Here, he can at least admit it to himself.

  
**For @pan_pandeus  
Dean/Gabriel, cats**

The thing was, Dean never had any intention of taking one of the things home. Sure they were…cute, but when had _cute_ ever mattered to a Winchester? (Sammy didn’t count because Sammy was clearly a giant girl.)

But then it had looked up at him with those giant, soulful eyes, and given a tiny pathetic _mew_ , and for whatever reason, Dean Winchester had fallen head over heels for it.

For a goddamn _kitten_. And what the hell he thought he was going to do with it, being on the road twenty-four seven, was anyone’s guess.

He was cursing himself six ways from Sunday when Gabriel breezed in, stopping short at the little ball of gray fur on the bed before turning a slow smirk on Dean. “Now this should be good,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, shut up,” Dean growled, picking up the kitten (he really needed to name it already) and plopping it into his lap.

It began to purr instantly.

Gabriel snickered. “So what brought this about?” he asked, dropping down to the bed next to Dean. The kitten looked up with a curious expression, mewed happily when Gabriel met its gaze.

Dean scowled at the archangel.

Gabriel smiled innocently back.

“Somehow,” Dean said slowly, “I know this is your fault. And there’s going to be payback.”

Gabriel looked as though he was decidedly looking forward to it. The kitten, after looking back and forth at each of them a few times, finally settled between them and went right back to purring contentedly.

Clearly, Dean had gotten himself a kitten with sanity issues.

He decided on the spot to call it Gabby.

  
**For @wolfling  
Gabriel/Castiel, New Year’s traditions**

Even when he was living the pagan high life, drunk on the benefits of being on his own and away from Heaven, Gabriel had never really cared much about the celebrations that came along with the beginning of each new year. The concept of _time_ was as fluid to him as a pagan god as it had been as an angel, and it wasn’t something he generally concerned himself with.

But then the apocalypse happened, and he was reconnected with the most beloved of his brothers, and somehow, _somehow_ , Castiel had stayed with him here.

And it became a matter of utmost importance for Gabriel to show Castiel everything there was to know about this place, this home he’d chosen for himself.

And, as a way of doing it _right_ , he started with New Years. New beginnings, fresh starts, and maybe it had never meant anything to him before, but things were different, with Castiel. Castiel was innocent, and naïve to so many things, and this was something Gabriel could give him that (he hoped) wouldn’t get him laughed at. A gesture that would genuinely _mean_ something to the younger angel.

So, beneath a cloudless, star-filled sky, in an open-field full of fresh powdered snow, Gabriel took hold of Castiel’s hand at midnight, snapped his fingers, and watched the awe steal over his brother’s face as fireworks filled his vision. Every shape and size and color on the planet, and many that existed only to the eyes of angels. Booming bursts of sound that sent tremors through the earth beneath their feet. Dizzying radiance that reflected on pale skin and lit in bright blue eyes.

And, overcome, Gabriel turned Castiel to him, stood on his tiptoes in the snow, and kissed him.


End file.
